


Indigo Blood

by Lauren_is_a_moron



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Desert Island Fic, F/M, Human Experimentation, Mad Scientists, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 06:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14636142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauren_is_a_moron/pseuds/Lauren_is_a_moron
Summary: Betty Cooper finds herself, and five of her classmates stranded on a desert island after their doomed flight to Spain crashes. Though what they weren’t counting on, was the island already being inhabited by a mad scientist desperate for test subjects for his experiments. And what's better than six stranded teens? It's only a matter of time before Betty and her friends face losing their humanity and become the perfect guinea pigs for a psychopath to play with; twisting and moulding them into something...better.





	Indigo Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This idea is based on a roleplay on I did on Riverdale Amino. I fell in love with it, so I'm turning it into an actual fic :D Hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Shadows settle on the place, that you left_  
_Our minds are troubled by the emptiness_  
_Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time_  
_From the perfect start to the finish line_

_And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones_  
_'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs_  
_Setting fire to our insides for fun_  
_Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong_  
_The lovers that went wrong_

 

**\- Daughter - Youth**

 

* * *

 

*

_** Prologue. ** _

 Betty Cooper had always wanted to fly. Ever since she was young, she had dreamed of growing wings and flying above glittering cities and pools of dark blue. Then when she saw Peter Pan, she wanted to just- fly. Without wings. Just with the power of belief. That she really could fly, if she believed in fairies. Then of course she grew up. Betty stopped dreaming of flying and fairy's.

She stopped daydreaming in class about sprouting her own very pair of angel wings. She stopped all together. Though those memories from her childhood that had been neatly stacked at the back of her mind, happily suppressed- slammed into Betty, and she had only one thought as she plummeted, the icy wind as she fell stole the breath from her lungs, tore at her clothes, her face, dragging her further and further and further...her only thought, crashing through her mind as the air around her swallowed her up, suffocating her. Her lungs were on fire, her breath choked in her throat. Her blonde hair was in her face, blinding her. It was like being in a vacuum, all sound sucked from the world. All she heard was the wind battering her, her hair caught in a tornado.  _This isn't supposed to be what it's like?_

Out of all her thoughts, that shouldn't be the one that dominated her mind. Yet- somehow it was. She had dreamed of this moment since she was little. This wasn't what it was supposed to be like.

Even that one thought was caught up in a blizzard in her brain, splitting into fragments, so the thought hit her, broken up. Echoing in her head.

This wasn't what it was....this wasn't...

This wasn't what it was supposed to be like-

To fly. This wasn't what it was supposed to be like to fly. She should be grinning, swooping through the air with her arms stretched out like she was Wendy Darling flying to Neverland with Peter Pan. But she was just falling. Falling....falling. Betty could feel herself slowly being sucked into oblivion. She could see the long stretch of dark blue getting closer and closer as she fell. The ocean. But it didn't excite her, like it had her childhood self. Five year old Betty wanted to skate across the ocean, her bare toes scathing the surface. But now now. This wasn't some fairy-tale daydream in the fourth grade. This was reality. Betty wasn't flying. She was fucking falling.

 

**Down....**

 

**Down....**

 

**Down....**

 

Straight into oblivion.

The next moments were quick; like hitting shattered glass. Betty felt the freezing ocean envelope her, smash against her skin like icy needles digging into her at the same time. She felt water stream into her ears, dulling her hearing into an echo of her own heartbeat. She couldn’t breathe. Her chest was aching, her lungs screaming for oxygen. She kicked her legs frantically, fighting to claw back to the glittering surface. But the harder she fought, but couldn't stop herself as she plunged deeper and deeper and deeper until she felt her body jerk, like an elastic band being pulled. She stopped falling. Her head stopped spinning, and she simply floated; suspended in the depths. Then it was like waking up, jerking from her daze. Betty tried to propel herself towards the surface, but something was dragging her down. Panic settled into her chest and she kicked hard, fighting to hold her breath as water streamed inside her, numbing her body, her arms and her legs. This wasn't happening. She told herself. Mentally screeched at herself. This was a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. But nightmares were easy to differentiate from real life. They were like being trapped in cotton wool, like fighting in molasses. But this was too fast. Too real. The icy water gripping her, drowning her; was real.

She was going to die. The thought hit her like a tumultuous wave, and she kicked harder, fighting against the phantom hands pulling relentlessly on her ankles. When she looked around, her heart in her throat, her lungs starved of oxygen, she saw her blonde hair spread around her like a halo, drowning in the pitch dark depths. She was too deep, too far from the surface. Betty had no idea what it was like to drown. She'd always been a pretty good swimmer. But this? This was inevitable. Suddenly it was like her body simply stopped, against her will as dark spots speckled her vision. She made the mistake of opening her mouth to scream for help. But that just made it easier. Her thoughts became slushy and fragmented as her mind started to shut down as she allowed herself to be pulled down....

_So this was it was like to drown._

 

**Flashback.**

"So what you're saying is that they're real?"

"Metaphorically speaking, yeah. I mean, there is some kind of special society looking down on us, right? I think they're real, but they don't do creepy shit like what you hear about from conspiracy nuts." Jughead Jones leaned back in his chair, his fingers already going to fiddle with the loose curl of dark hair spilling down his forehead. He wasn’t wearing his beanie because of the humidity in the airport, and Betty couldn’t help love the difference. He barely ever took his hat off.

Jughead was manic with his hands as usual, with his fingers either pulling at his hair, or tapping out a rhythm on the hardwood table in front of him.  Betty couldn't help smiling at the boy as he plunged into a heavily detailed description on World Leaders and the so called Illuminati. She could tell he loved talking about that kind of stuff. His eyes were lit up as he spoke excitedly, using his hands to gesture wildly. She was supposed to be listening to music to dull the headache that had taken hold of her skull and pulsed relentlessly. Suddenly tying her hair into a tight ponytail didn't seem like the best idea in the world, but she was too lazy to pull it out.

Betty couldn't concentrate on her relaxing playlist; sweet melodies in her ears. Archie Andrews and Jughead were too distracting. The two of them were sat together opposite her, engaged in conspiracy theories. Ever since Archie had showed their group a video on the so-called Mandela Effect, it had set Jughead off. They had been sitting there for two hours and had already gone through 9/11, Area 51 and thanks to an only half-joking Kevin happily joining in; Lizard People. Betty was already starting to feel mildly paranoid.

Riverdale State Airport was damn loud. Of course it was loud, it was Friday night. Yet Jughead’s voice still managed to cut through the white noise of the busy commute around them. The airport lounge felt like another world at this time of night. People rushing around, yelling and pushing past each other. They reminded Betty of a swarm of locusts.

The noise was like someone was sticking a needle in her ear. Betty hadn't spoken in a while, and her classmates respected that. So she just sat, leaning her sore head into the cushy material of her seat and listened, twining her headphone wires around her fingers. Betty half wondered where Veronica Lodge was. She'd disappeared awhile ago to go and grab food, but she still wasn't back. The girl had left her bag and jacket. She considered excusing herself to go and look for the girl, but her head was still pounding. Betty balanced her phone in her lap. She'd turned the brightness all the way down, but it wasn't making much difference. Besides, Veronica had probably gotten caught up with a phone call. Most likely with her over protective father. Betty had been sure Hiram Lodge wouldn’t let his daughter on the Sophomores honors trip to Spain. Yet here she was. Betty’s mom had been more than happy to wave her daugher off. So here she was, sitting in the airport lounge with the Riverdale High honour students. Her neighbour; Archie Andrews, a boy who she had been crushing on since preschool. Veronica Lodge, Riverdale High’s very own Blair Waldorf. Though admittedly, a sweeter version. As well as Kevin Keller and Cheryl Blossom. Oh, and Jughead Jones. Betty saw him as a friend, and he was- sort of. Well, he was Archie’s best friend. So it was impossible not to know him.

The thing was, though; ever since this morning, Betty had been getting a bad feeling.

Ever since waking up, she had funny feeling in her gut. Though she should be excited. Two weeks of lounging in the sun and getting into hijinks with her classmates, as well as hopefully getting to know them better awaited her. But no matter how hard she tried to suppress it, Betty couldn't get rid of that nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. When she had tried explaining it to Jughead earlier, when they were unloading their luggage from the coach that had brought them to the airport,  he'd given her one of his trademark smirks. "Really Bettyy?” he had laughed. "Dude, are you having a Final Destination premonition?"

She had laughed it off as a joke. But the feeling didn't waver. In fact it got worse throughout the day. She didn't end up packing until the very last minute, after she'd tried to spent all day lying on her bed with her face pressed into her covers.

"Wait, so all that stuff about the owls, was that bullshit?" Archie was leaning on his elbow, facing Jughead. He looked completely enthralled in Jughead’s words, his brown eyes wide. The boy's hair was a mess of bright red hidden under a baseball cap. He was nervously playing with the beaded bracelet on his wrist, twisting and pulling it as he frowned at Jughead, his eyebrows pushed together in confusion. Betty rolled her eyes. The boy believed everything.

"Owls?" Jughead smirked, cocking his eyebrow. "What owls?"

Archie straightened up, yawning before resuming his original position. "Those Bohemian owl things? I watched an hour long documentary on them."

“Archie Andrews watching an hour long documentary on evil owls?" Cheryl Blossom looked up from her phone, her fingernails going to flick strands of her dark red hair out of her eyes. She grinned at the boy. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Evil owls?" Kevin Keller spoke up, grinning. "Isn't that Twin Peaks?"

Archie frowned. "No, I don't mean on a TV show." His cheeks darkened now he had everyone's attention. "I mean, like- they had these weird ceremonies where they supposedly..." he drifted off, lowering his voice. "Apparently they sacrifice newborn babies."

Jughead scoffed. "To what? Their owl overlords?"

"No, you idiot. It looked serious, y'know? The video had like millions of views-"

Betty tuned out then as Archie started to explain, while Kevin and Jughead stared at him looking mildly horrified. The bad feeling was still twisting her up inside, and she couldn't swallow it down. Luckily, Veronica came rushing through the automatic doors clutching her purse, phone, and a half eaten sandwich. "It took me an hour to queue," The girl looked like she'd ran a marathon. Cheryl didn't look up from her phone. "You sound tired, dude."

Veronica pushed her dark hair out of her eyes, letting out a relieved breath. "I ran because I thought I was going to miss the plane." she sighed and rested her head on the table, her next words muffled; "But I'm guessing there was no point?"

Betty frowned at the girl's choice of sandwich. "Cheese and lettuce?" she hadn't spoken in a while, so her voice was cracked. Veronica lifted her head up and grinned. Her dark hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat, her olive skin shining with perspiration.

Betty couldn't understand why the girl had chosen to wear a sweater in the middle of Summer. It was weird seeing her not wearing a dress. "Don't judge my sandwich taste." Veronica said teasingly, before her gaze slid across the table, to the boy's still talking loudly.

Veronica shot her a glance before she picked up the rest of her sandwich and nibbled on it, daintily pulling out pieces of lettuce. "What are they talking about?"

“Owls." Cheryl continued to communicate with her gaze still glued to her phone.

Perhaps Kevin would have continued to listen to Archie ramble incessantly about cannibalistic owls, or whatever he was saying if not for his attention being stolen by a far more interesting occurrence. Betty followed his gaze.  A man - perhaps in his mid-fifties, with greying hair lining a balding head, and wearing a heavy woollen trench coat - brushed past the group of students, muttering to himself like a madman. The stranger made a moment of eye contact with Kevin, his dark, sunken blue eyes seeming skittish instead of confident as they met Kevin’s questioning green ones. Just as quickly as the odd moment had commenced, it ended, leaving Kevin looking more than confused.

Kevin frowned as he looked at the others, including her for their opinions. The group were staring at him instead, their faces adorned with quizzical expressions. Betty was the first one to speak, asking a quick, “Kev, what was that all about?” Something buzzed inside her. That nagging feeling again. She swallowed. The strong aroma of mozzarella from Veronica’s sandwich was turning her stomach. The girl took a bite, covering her mouth as she chewed. "Well that was freaky." she commented.

Archie was smirking at Kevin. He seemed amused. "Do you know that guy?”

Kevin shrugged, clearly brushing off the strange encounter.

“No idea, the guy just kinda stared at me, y’know?” He responded breezily, without missing a beat. Kevin ran his dominant hand through his hair, making it stick up in semi-organised points. He changed the subject automatically; “When is that damned plane arriving?”

 

**Present.**

The feeling was strange. Like being viciously yanked from the very edge of life, just as she was drifting into another realm, perhaps heaven? But Betty didn't really believe in all of that. When you die, you...well, you die. There were no Golden gates or bright lights swallowing you up.  And she was pretty damn sure she had just drowned. She could still remember the feeling of being swallowed up, enveloped by the turbulent ocean.

Her first thought was muddled and barely distinguishable; Was she dead? The answer was obvious after a few seconds. No. Somehow she wasn't. But was she alive either? This didn't feel like life. She couldn't feel anything - taste anything.

Though that thought seemed ridiculous when Betty caught vague rumbling in her ears, like someone was shouting. But their voice failed to penetrate her foggy mind. She couldn't feel herself for a moment and it felt like she was walking on air. But the rumbling was getting louder and louder in her ears as her senses slowly came back as life seeped back into her. Suddenly her mouth was full of something, gagging her throat, choking her. Her chest was aching, her body was springing upwards as she felt the sensation of something hard clamped down on her chest. Then everything was moving fast. Betty was springing up, her eyes flying open. Her vision was blurry as her stomach revolted and she hacked up water still clawing for a way out. Betty’s surroundings became more clear as her gut constricted, allowing her to choke up half of the sea she had swallowed up.

She found herself staring down at- bright yellow. Sand. Her fists were clenched, digging into the hard sand as the water poured out of her. Strands of her golden hair were stuck to her face. The more she came back to fruition, the more she felt. The more she heard. Her own gasping breath, water still roaring in her ears and her head spinning, her environment twisting and twirling around her, like she was on a roller-coaster. But the only colours that swarmed in her recovering vision were bright Yellow and sparkling Blue.  

Eventually, Betty stopped gagging and collapsed back onto her stomach, allowing herself to breathe.

Sand. The thought crashed into her as she rested her face into shallow water she was half submerged in, the rest of her buried in sand. Betty's body ached, but she managed to sit up on her knees, blinking in the sunlight. She found herself staring up at crystal blue sky and sparkling ocean which seemed to mirror one another, going on forever.

She felt a moment of panic, like the walls of her mind were crashing over each other. Her chest swelled, tears springing to her eyes. She whipped her head back and forth, scanning for anything- anyone. But there was nobody but her, curled up in the shallows. Except she had heard voices- when she had woken up. She was sure of it. Betty let out a startled breath. She could feel a panic attack coming on as her breaths got faster, her head starting to pound. No. She couldn't be alone.

"Hello?" Betty was surprised she even had a voice. Her mouth tasted like sand, tinted with bloody saliva. She could taste the grit in the back of her throat. When she licked her lips, her tongue scathing her split lip. She hesitated before touching it tenderly, wincing when it stung. Betty could still remember fragments of the crash. She could hear the screams around her, the screeching siren. She could still smell the putrid smoke from the burning engines setting her lungs on fire. Betty started to tremble. She forced herself to stand on shaky legs and tried again; crying out for anyone. Just...anyone!

"Hello?!" Betty automatically went to grab her phone from her soggy shorts. But of course it wasn't there. Her gaze landed on her bare legs, scratched and bloodied. She had lost her shoes too, her bare feet looked untouched. The bright pink vest top she had been wearing clung to her, sticking to her skin. Betty tried to call out again, but her voice splintered in her throat. "Shit," she whimpered. This couldn't be happening.

“Betty!” The voice startled her, and she spun around too fast, losing her balance and tumbling back down into the sand. But she was jumping up fast, ignoring the shooting pain in her legs. She knew that voice. She scanned the shallows for the familiar face and her heart jumped into her throat when she spotted him knelt in the sand over something.

“Betty, come and help me!" His voice was shaking.

Jughead. Betty didn't hesitate. She was running, her bare feet splashing in the shallows. When she got closer Jughead got clearer; going from a blurry figure in the distance, to a real person in front of her. The boy looked battered. His clothes were torn, his hair was damp, plastered to his forehead where a three inch cut sliced into his olive skin. Jughead’s green eyes were wide, his lips parted in a silent cry as he bent over something, or rather someone lying in the sand. Just like she had been. Betty swallowed a cry and staggered over. It was Archie. The boy looked similar to Jughead. His red hair was stuck to his pale forehead, his shirt ripped open, jeans torn, revealing scarlet gashes in his legs. But the boy's eyes were shut, his face was pale. It took Betty few seconds to realise what Jughead was doing, with his hands clamped over the redhead's chest. Repeatedly bending over and breathing air into the boy's parted lips, trying to flood life into him. But Archie’s skin was deathly pale. Betty tried to swallow bile slowly climbing up her throat. Archie Andrews, the boy she had grown up, was- oh god, was he…?

"Is he..?" Betty couldn't find the words. She couldn't move. Jughead shook his head. "No, he's not," he growled. "I won't fucking let him be." His voice was freakishly calm.

Betty nodded. "And...and the others?" She whispered.

Jughead didn't reply. His movements got slower, weaker, and then he completely stopped, before hanging his head. Betty started to edge forwards, both trying to see if Archie was really...if he was really...the word refused to surface in her mind. She started to say something, the words tangled on her tongue, but Jughead shot up with a sharp cry when Archie’s eyes flew open, wide and unseeing, before he lurched to his side and emptied his stomach onto the sand between gasps of breath. "Jesus, fuck," Jughead flung his arms over Archie, who groaned loudly, pressing his face into the sand as he unceremoniously brought up tangled bits of seaweed. "You were dead, Archie!” Jughead hissed. You were freaking-"

The boy was laughing, and it was the most beautiful sound Betty had ever heard. "I didn't even know what I was doing, I panicked- I wasn't even sure I was doing it right!"

"M'fine." Archie said between gasps. "Just... lemme…throw up, alright?"

Betty went to kneel by them both. Jughead was breathing heavily, leaning away from Archie to give him space. Betty found her voice.

She couldn't stop smiling, despite everything that had happened. Jughead and Archie were alive, they were here with her. She wasn't- she wasn't alone.

After awhile, Betty ended up sitting cross legged in the sand, leaning into Jughead, his arms draped over her. The boy was still trembling. Archie lay on his back, staring up at the sky, his brown eyes half lidded. Thankfully his cheeks had blossomed a healthy red. The cut on Jughead’s forehead was bothering Betty, but she was too exhausted to speak. After a moment of silence, Jughead cleared his throat, his fingers brushing the cut on his head. He winced, frowning at his scarlet fingers. "Archie, don't ever scare me like that again."

"Mm." The redhead mumbled half-heartedly. A few more seconds passed as Betty found herself gazing at the glittering ocean stretched out in front of them. "Wait," Archie sat up, his brown eyes wide.

"Where are the others?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think, and leave kudos if you liked! I listened to Take on Me repeatedly while editing this, welp


End file.
